Transylvanian Sketchpad
by Spaztic Arwen
Summary: My entries for the WordPrompt contest. In the first one-shot, Van Helsing, Carl, and Frankenstein prepare for Anna’s funeral. The second is lighter: a friendly rivalry turns hostile on Christmas Eve.
1. Lilly

A/N: My first entry in the Word-Prompt contest, the object of which is to write as many one-shots based on a list of keywords as I can before Labor Day. The winner receives a 1 month's subscription to Deviantart. If you are interested in the contest, p.m. me and I'll send you the information.

Summery: Van Helsing, Carl, and Frankenstein prepare for Anna's funeral. In doing so, they cope with their own sense of loss and helplessness.

The keyword for this story was _"lily"_.

…

He was supposed to be collecting wood for her pyre, and now and then, he would stop and pick up a piece of driftwood. It wasn't really necessary; Frankenstein already had more than enough, but Van Helsing felt as if he should be doing something.

The region seemed to have entered a false spring. A few flowers speckled the ground, though it was the first of November, and some of the trees had been tricked into greening. A bird sang overhead. Van Helsing wished that it would stop and that the rain and cold would return. The sun shouldn't be shining; not today anyway.

Anna would have liked it though. She'd have denied it, maybe pretended to sulk or focus on less frivolous maters; but secretly, she would have enjoyed herself. Van Helsing didn't understand exactly why he was so certain of that. He'd known Anna for a few weeks. But today would have been a perfect day to see the ocean, and he was sure that she would have enjoyed it. Without her, the day's perfection only made it all the more miserable.

He had insisted on bringing her body to the coast. She wanted to see the ocean. She had only mentioned it once, but once was enough. The sea was where her father had gone. It was away from cold Transylvania and the things that had consumed her life there. Anna had been like him in that her life revolved around duty. She had never known a life beyond her family's curse; just as he could not remember a time before the Order and its unending assignments. Her final resting place should be away from all of that.

Van Helsing's only comfort was that his companions seemed to want to do Anna justice as much as he, but were also equally at loss for a means. They were trying though. Carl had offered to say a mass; and had spent the morning trying to find the right verses. The traditional ones seemed bland, he said. They just weren't right for Anna.

Frankenstein stepped forward when it came time to build the pyre. He didn't know the appropriate things to say or do at a funeral, but he offered his strength. He was up before dawn, gathering wood. Van Helsing found him stacking the logs painstakingly near the cliff's edge. He had chosen the wood with care; nothing wet or rotting. The top layers, those that would be closest to Anna, were of fragrant cedar.

And Van Helsing, for his part, had chosen the place, the grassy cliffs with their majestic view of the sea. It did not seem enough. Nothing they could do would be enough. The three had acknowledged the fact without putting it to words.

If only he could darken the skies, chill the air, make the world seem as mournful and miserable as it should have been; perhaps then he would be able to do Anna justice. His hand went to his gun, and he considered silencing the bird, the one that would not stop singing its happy tune, but Anna would not have liked that. She would have pretended to be annoyed, but secretly, she would have wanted the bird to sing.

A handful of lilies, brought out by the deceitfully warm weather grew beside an old stump. Van Helsing put down his meager stack of wood and picked a few with care. Slowly, he walked back to the camp. Frankenstein had finished the pyre and he and Carl laid Anna out on it. Gently, Van Helsing folded her hands around the white flowers. Her funeral would be a meager tribute, but he suspected that Anna would have liked it anyway.


	2. Red

A/N: This one-shot takes place in Sapphy's perfect world; a world in which Anna and Velkan live and people remember to include Frankie in their fanfics. I know that the previous one-shot took place at Anna's funeral, but these one shots do not necessarily have to have anything to do with one another. Sri if that's confusing.

The word for this story is **red**. I sorta stretched it, but this scene needed to be written.

The Velarious manor was strewn with red and green, and filled with a sort of joyous sprit that had not visited it in years.

"Lift it higher."

"I thought I was lifting it higher." Carl complained. He was standing atop a ladder that was far to high for what seemed like hours (though it had in fact only been a few minutes) trying to align the two ends of a ridiculously long garland of pine.

"Oh get in the spirit." Van Helsing shouted from below. He had opted to let his friend do the heavy lifting for once while he gave directions and he was very much enjoying the reversal.

"I don't see why I'm up here. After all, you are taller and…"

"Oh Carl," Anna exclaimed with mock sympathy. She had just entered the room, caring an enormous tray. "Perhaps a gingerbread cookie would make it worth the effort."

"Gingerbread?" he almost dropped the garland. Quickly, he tacked it up and scurried down the ladder.

"So that's what I smelled burning." Velkan stuck his head in the room. "I tell you now, my sister should not be allowed near a stove."

Anna through a cookie at him with a marksman's precision.

"They are not burned, they are delicious. And if you don't want one, then there is more for me!"

She set the tray down on the table, and in her defense, Van Helsing and Carl set upon them like ravenous wolves. But the feeding frenzy was soon interrupted.

"Does anyone else hear that?" Van Helsing cocked his head so as to better hear a faint voice coming from outside.

"It sounds like…singing."

The voice grew louder as its owner neared the manor. Someone was singing Christmas carols.

"Sounds like a baritone." Carl noted. He enjoyed a good opera now and again.

The voice was muffled for a moment, and then it became louder. There was a soft scratching sound in the hallway, and the four rushed down the stairs to see what was the matter.

"Here we come a wassailing among the leaves so green…"

"Frankenstein?" Anna asked, her surprise evident. There in the hallway stood the giant with an enormous Christmas tree slung over his shoulders. It was not the sight that had taken the princess off guard, but the sound. Frankenstein's voice was rich and soulful.

"Let me help you with that," Van Helsing said, and Frankenstein handed him the tree. The monster hunter was almost crushed by the weight and Velkan and Carl had to rush to his rescue.

"I never knew that you could sing." Anna said admiringly.

Frankenstein shrugged.

"It passes the time. I don't suppose I'm any good but…"

"My dear friend," Carl declared, dropping his end of the tree. "You are spectacular! Have you ever considered a career in the Opera?"

"No, for obvious reasons."

"Pish posh. Van Helsing, you remember that Eric fellow, don't you? Ugly as sin he was, but he bloody ran the _Opera Populaire_ in Paris."

"Oh I remember him all right, and that Punjab Lasso of his too."

"A veritable genius, he was; and a bit of a nutter too, come to think of it."

"Well, I think that you sing wonderfully," Anna interjected. There was an almost dreamy quality to her words. Van Helsing had not failed to notice that her cheeks had reddened and doubted that it had anything to do with the cold.

"Oh he was alright."

"Alright?"

"Yes, alright if you like that sort of thing. Personally, I thought it was a little…chesty."

"Chesty? He was superb. And it is not as if you could do any better!"

"Oh really? Well, Miss Velarious, _you_ have never heard _me_ sing."

"Well let's hear it then." Anna swung her arms out in a grand and mocking gesture. Van Helsing puffed out his chest and began to sing in a clear, crisp tenor

"I saw three ships come sailing in on Christmas Eve, on Christmas Eve, I saw three ships come sailing in on Christmas Eve in the morning!"

The others stared in awe.

"Where did you learn to sing like that?" Anna demanded.

"Music soothes the savage beast." He explained vaguely.

"That wasn't so grand." Frankenstein said.

"Oh really?"

Frankenstein stood tall and his deep voice filled the room.

"Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming from tender stem hath sprung! Of Jesse's lineage coming, as those of old have sung."

"It came, a floweret bright," Van Helsing interrupted. "Amid the cold of winter…" But Frankenstein would not be upstaged.

"Whe-en half spent wa-as the ni-ght."

"Psh, you call that singing?"

"You wouldn't know a note if it punched you in the eye!"

"Tone def monster!"

"Howling wolf!"

The two looked ready to resort to blows.

"What say we leave these two fools to their noise swapping," Velkan whispered to Carl, "And see if we can't scrounge up some more cookies."

The friar nodded earnestly.

"I never thought that music could be so violent!"

A/N: Because Hugh and Shuler should never again be in a movie together and not sing.

Originally, the author's note said "2 cookies to whoever spots the _Oklahoma!_ Ref" but now that I go back and read it; I realize that the whole thing is a giant Oklahoma reference. Hugh Jackman and Shuler Hensley were both in the London Revival cast together. And they both have amazing voices.


End file.
